In life?

There’s a million

Rain cloud

Storms a-brewing

With their shotguns

Pointing right between the eyes.

You never seem to understand

As the bullets

Touch-batter the windows.

Knock, knock, knocking

At a life too safe

And planned.

Should you stay here

Safe in the arms of

Reading books

And written words.

Simply existing

In happy land.

 

Or….

 

Curious?

So leave the room.

Bite the bullets.

Step out and

Be glad that you and rain exist

Because

When it’s wing tips brush kiss

Your cheeks

You’re left feeling

Golden, exhilarated

And at peace

No longer haunted

Or aching with memories.

 

Rain?

It’s teardrops.

Which are falling

Like Ghosts

That keep calling

You.

Back.

To future experience.

They’re friends

That surround you

As you twist this way

And that way.

Pitter Putter Patter

They dance euphorically

Around you

And on you

They seep into you.

They allow you

To mend.